‘I know… but you can tell me now. You will, won’t you? I don’t want you suffering in silence.’
‘I will. Thank you.’
‘And you will tell me about any little twinges, won’t you?’
‘Twinges?’
‘You won’t ignore any warning signs?’
‘Warning signs of what?’
‘The baby coming!’ Dixon’s expression was almost comical in his exasperation.
‘Labour?’ Phoebe blinked. ‘Dixon, I’ve got six months to go. It’s highly unlikely I’ll go into labour here in the office. I don’t think you need to worry about it.’
‘I’m just saying, for later on. Just so you know. And if you happen to be at home when it starts and you can’t find Jack, you just call me and I’ll be straight over.’
‘Thank you.’ Phoebe replied. While she was touched by the gesture she was a little bemused. Surely he knew how many other people she could call on before she had to resort to him. She liked Dixon, but as a birthing partner… maybe not. She wasn’t sure that he fully understood what he was offering either. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to explain it. She gave her brightest, most grateful smile before she bent back to her work again. Since she had spent such a long time this afternoon filling in forms for her maternity leave and inevitably chatting about it at the same time, she was really behind with her workload. Another story session was due in half an hour and she had a stack of market research to get through before she went down to oversee it.
Dixon’s voice spoiled her concentration again. ‘How are you getting home tonight?’
‘The same way I always do – the bus. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason. I just wondered if you ought to be travelling on public transport in your condition.’
Phoebe resisted the impulse to laugh. In her condition? She was pregnant, not an unexploded bomb. ‘I’m sure it will be okay. Lots of pregnant women use the bus.’
‘Yes, but all that pushing and shoving, the bus shaking, all those potholes in the road… won’t they do damage? Isn’t it better to avoid it if you can? I could take you home.’
‘That’s kind of you but I’m fine.’
Dixon paused. He looked mortally wounded by her refusal of his offer. He really was taking this baby business a lot more seriously than Phoebe had expected him to. ‘It was just a thought,’ he said finally. ‘That’s all. What does Jack think of you taking his baby on the bus?’
Jack. Phoebe still hadn’t called him. Despite the conversation with Midnight at lunch, the positive message from him on her phone and the optimism she’d felt then that they could fix things, she still didn’t really know for sure. With all the other drama since then, the moment had somehow come and gone. She would have to face him sooner or later but for all her bravado earlier, her courage had failed her again. What would Jack think of Dixon’s worries? Would he even care? Midnight’s assertion that he avoided the baby issue out of fear made sense, but was it really at the root of the problem?
‘We haven’t properly talked about it.’
‘Well,’ Dixon said, wearing a frown, ‘I can’t understand why he wouldn’t have thought of it. You should let me run you home.’
‘Dixon… you can’t run me home every night for the next six months or however long I have left here.’
‘I wouldn’t mind at all,’ Dixon insisted cheerfully.
Phoebe’s smile contained every grain of the patience she had left. ‘I’d better get downstairs. The last story session of the day is about to start.’
‘You’ll have a seat, won’t you?’ Dixon asked. ‘You won’t be standing up all the way through?’
‘I’ve been standing up for all the others and nothing has gone wrong.’
Dixon looked as though he was reaching for an argument, but then he seemed to give up. ‘Don’t overdo it. If you feel tired come straight back up here.’
Phoebe stood to leave. ‘I’ll see you later.’ Sooner, rather than later, she suspected, as she fully expected him to come and check on her over the next hour or so. It was going to be a long six months.
As Phoebe made her way down to the shop floor, she met Adam on the stairs again. Her bloody timing, as always, was perfect. She gave him an awkward smile, but his expression was now stony, rather like the one his father always wore. Perhaps something similar had happened in old Mr Hendry’s youth to make him look so sour all the time. Perhaps this was how Adam would always look from now on. Either way, he seemed neither pleased nor embarrassed to see her, only coldly neutral.
‘Sorry,’ Phoebe stammered as she passed. She didn’t even know what she was apologising for. He gave a curt nod and continued on his way.
So much for her ally in the Hendry family. She had the feeling her proposals would be rather harder to get past old man Hendry from now on. It was just another thing she was going to have to try to move past in a life that was becoming more and more complicated. And there was no way she was giving this job up, not now, no matter how tough Adam made things. All the same, she hoped he wouldn’t cause too many problems.
Melissa Brassington was depositing sock puppets of various animals on each of twenty floor cushions when Phoebe found her.
‘How’s it going?’
‘Good,’ Melissa replied with a nervous smile. She always looked nervous around Phoebe, which was weird. It was hard to imagine how Phoebe could make anyone feel that way and although she was older than Melissa and more senior in the company, most days she didn’t feel that different from the very young and inexperienced store assistant. ‘By the way,’ Melissa added, ‘a lady was in asking for you.’
‘Oh. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Did she say who she was?’
Melissa’s huge green eyes were wide as she shook her head. She was pretty, delicate looking, and Phoebe suspected this was part of her appeal to the young audiences, who must have felt she was on their level in a very instinctive way. She looked barely older than them herself.
‘Did she say what she wanted?’ Phoebe asked.
Melissa shook her head again. ‘I told her she could ask one of the till staff to page you but she said she would come back when you were available.’
‘Okay. What did she look like?’
‘Nice. Well dressed.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Sort of old.’
Phoebe frowned.
‘I didn’t really notice that much,’ Melissa excused.
Phoebe got the impression Melissa had noticed more than she was letting on but for some reason she was keeping the knowledge to herself. She pulled her phone from her trouser pocket. Her mum would have called ahead to warn her she was coming but there was no voicemail. Based on all this, Phoebe was beginning to form a strong suspicion about the identity of this woman, but she hoped she was wrong. If she was right, then the conversation they might have wasn’t one she wanted to have at work. She tried not to dwell on it.
‘Did the kids like Chicken Licken?’
‘They loved it. Quite a lot went away and bought puppets too.’
‘That’s brilliant. You were okay with Valerie helping?’
‘Yes. She’s great.’
‘I must remember to thank her.’
Melissa looked past Phoebe towards the first parents who had started to trickle in with their children. Phoebe followed her gaze.
‘They’re keen.’
‘We had to turn them away from the last one,’ Melissa said, her nerves evident again. ‘They must have waited around for this session.’
Phoebe felt proud that people were willing to wait around for two hours to get into one of her sessions. It had happened on the odd occasion before, but it seemed to happen more often now as word got round the playgroups and nurseries of the town.
‘I’ll offer the parents a free drink, just to keep them sweet,’ she said.
‘That’s what I told them. If they came back, I mean.’ Melissa blushed. ‘I hope you don’t mind me doing that but I thought you would offer them
anyway if you’d been down here.’
‘Not at all. That was well handled.’ Phoebe gave her an encouraging smile.
With her news out in the open, Phoebe felt that she could now plan ahead for her maternity leave without worry or guilt. She had already earmarked Melissa as someone she could trust to look after the storytelling sessions. Now, she just needed to find people for each little project that she had up and running. Midnight was an obvious choice, of course, but it would take more people than just her. It was just another thing to think about on her ever-growing list.
With the story session in full swing, the specially-constructed space was alive with a cacophony of squealed animal noises and raucous giggling coming from the children gathered around Melissa, as their parents looked on. Phoebe felt a bit like a proud parent herself as she watched Melissa perform. She was constantly surprised by how the shy girl changed when given a storybook and a rapt audience and it was a lovely thing to see.
‘The sky is falling in! Melissa cried before giving the cue for more animal noises from around the room.
But the involuntary grin that stretched Phoebe’s face faded as her phone buzzed in her pocket. She rushed to a quieter corner to take the call.
‘Jack…’ she said, the squeals and laughter from the story room, although muted, still making it difficult to hear him. ‘I was going to call you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said into her tiny pause.
‘No… I’m sorry, I just –’
‘Phoebe, my mum is coming to see you.’
She held in a groan, her suspicions confirmed. ‘Here? At work?’
‘I told her about the baby. I had to, Archie would have done anyway.’
‘I know. Was she angry?’
‘With me, yes, for not telling her sooner. What she has in store for you I’ve no idea.’
Phoebe couldn’t help a smile. He’d called, not only to apologise, but to warn her, as if they were naughty kids in trouble together. It made them feel somehow solid again. ‘Does this heads-up mean we’re speaking?’
There was a pause from the other end. ‘I suppose it does,’ he said finally and Phoebe could hear the smile in his voice.
‘Then I can deal with whatever your mum’s got.’
‘That’s good, because she’s on the warpath big style. You should have heard the roasting she gave Archie.’
‘I’m glad I didn’t. I’d have felt sorry for him and that would never do.’
Jack laughed, and Phoebe felt that peculiar kick of excitement deep in her gut that only the sound of his laughter could bring. She was suddenly desperate to see him, but she had to bottle it up and take a breath. She still had the rest of the day to get through, and if the second half was going to be anything like the first she was going to be emotionally exhausted by the time it was over.
‘Archie’s packing, by the way,’ he added.
‘He has a place to go?’
‘Yes. It’s called home. Mum decided she needed to keep an eye on him. In all honesty, he seemed only too happy to let her. He acted like the tough guy last night but I think when he realised this morning how bad it had actually been, he was scared shitless.’
‘Do you think those guys will come back? To finish what they started?’
‘No, I don’t think they will. They were as pathetic as Archie when it came down to it – just more kids playing at tough guys. I’m only glad that things didn’t get out of hand. Playing or not, someone could have been seriously injured. Or worse.’
‘I’m trying not to think about that,’ Phoebe replied, the memory of that cold dread creeping over her again. She shook herself. Perhaps Jack was right, perhaps they wouldn’t dare come back again now that they knew Jack could handle himself. And he’d been to the police too and they must have realised he’d do that. Jack certainly sounded confident enough. ‘I’m almost sad Archie’s leaving. I’d just decided he was okay after all.’
‘Oh, he’ll still bug us every five minutes. He seems to have this weird idea that you and he are best buddies now.’
‘He’s okay,’ Phoebe said, thinking back to how Archie had tried to act as a go-between for her and Jack the night before. It had been a rather inept performance, but she realised now that Jack hadn’t asked him to do it and he’d behaved out of genuine concern. He had meant well and, ultimately, he wasn’t as much of a pain as he’d have people believe. ‘Oh…’ Phoebe was snapped from her musings as a familiar figure headed in her direction. ‘Jack… I’ll have to call you back.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Your mum.’ Phoebe never got to hear his reply. Carol drew level and stared her down as if they were enacting a scene from High Noon. Phoebe put her phone away and waited silently for the onslaught. The woman had never been pleased to see Phoebe, but right now she looked as though someone had shoved a wasp in her mouth and glued it shut.
‘Phoebe…’ Carol began.
‘Carol. What brings you here?’
‘Jack tells me you’re pregnant.’
Phoebe nodded.
‘How far along?’
‘Ten weeks.’
‘What do you intend to do about it?’
Phoebe was thrown, momentarily, by the question. ‘As I understand it, the traditional aim of a pregnancy is to give birth.’
Carol didn’t flinch. She didn’t acknowledge Phoebe’s sarcasm at all.
‘I want to know if you intend to marry Jack.’
The smug smile, such as it was (smug was not really in Phoebe’s repertoire even when she tried) was wiped from her face. ‘Marry Jack?’ she spluttered. ‘I’ve only just got my head around being pregnant! Anyway, why is it important? He wasn’t married to Rebecca.’
‘Not for the want of trying. Rebecca was a headstrong girl, very modern values. Her refusal seemed a bit silly to me.’
Phoebe stared at Carol. Was she hearing this right? Marrying Jack would make Phoebe an official part of the family, and there’d be no getting rid of her then. Carol hated Phoebe; surely she couldn’t want this? Was her sense of propriety so strong, so out-of-date that she would put all other feelings for Phoebe aside to see this happen? If it was true then it was ridiculous. ‘I think it’s for me and Jack to decide, don’t you?’
‘That’s my grandchild you’re carrying. I think I get a say.’
Phoebe could have pointed out that Carol clearly hadn’t been able to influence Rebecca. She could also have added that she didn’t see why Rebecca should have been afforded that luxury whilst Phoebe was not. But she held her tongue. To drag Rebecca into it would be a cheap shot. Phoebe wasn’t going to sink that low. She was, however, going to make her feelings clear, once and for all.
‘With respect, your involvement in the life of my baby will be on my terms, grandmother or not.’
It was Carol’s turn to stare and Phoebe was buoyed by a tiny sense of triumph. She had finally stood up for herself; she’d been assertive and hadn’t had to resort to the shameful passive-aggressive backbiting that had been the main feature of their relationship so far. Was Phoebe Clements finally growing up? She could see by Carol’s face that she’d scored a point. Okay, maybe scoring points was still a bit childish, but she supposed she couldn’t grow up all at once.
Carol drew herself up to her full height. ‘Since I don’t have a lot of choice in the fact that you are the baby’s mother, I want to offer my support. I can only hope that in time you will do the right thing by the baby and my son.’
‘You want to offer support?’
‘Of course. It’s what families do.’
Some families also tricked and poisoned each other; Phoebe had watched enough Dallas re-runs in her time to know that. But she tried not to let her distrust of Carol’s motives get the better of her. ‘It’s very kind of you. I’m sure we’ll be glad of it once the baby comes.’
‘So, there’ll be no more of this nonsense between you and Jack?’
Phoebe held back her reply, trying to glean any clue she could from Ca
rol’s tight-lipped expression about how much Jack had revealed of their row and the state of their relationship. Carol would have made a fantastic poker player, however, because Phoebe wasn’t getting a thing. ‘We plan to talk about it,’ she said finally.
‘Jack and I have done a little of that ourselves.’
‘Oh?’
‘Quite simply, I don’t think you realise how traumatic this is for him.’
‘He said that to you?’
‘He doesn’t need to. I’m his mother, I know it. He’s terrified that he’s going to lose you the way he lost Rebecca. Why do you think he was on his own for so long after she died?’
‘But that’s silly. We’ve already been over all that,’ Phoebe said, hearing echoes of her earlier conversation with Midnight.
‘Not to him it isn’t. Do you have any idea how a death like that can affect someone?’
‘Yes,’ Phoebe shot back. Carol knew about Vik and her accusation wasn’t fair.
‘Then you must be able to understand his feelings.’
‘Of course I do. But he knows that the chances of the same thing happening to me are tiny.’
‘They still exist, no matter how tiny. Jack will find it difficult to get past that.’
‘But we discussed it –’
‘Discuss it all you like. That fear won’t go until the baby arrives and all is well.’
Phoebe folded her arms. ‘So no matter how moody he is or how he shrugs me off I have to put up with it?’
‘Don’t be stupid, I didn’t say that. But you have to understand it. Denial of the baby is the only way he can keep from worrying himself sick. He has Maria to think of too and he has to keep his anxieties at bay for her sake.’
Phoebe nodded slowly. She couldn’t argue with that. With all that had gone on, it was easy to forget poor Maria and how things would be affecting her. Phoebe vowed to make it up to her somehow. ‘Archie is back home with you now?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s going to happen? About his problems, I mean.’
‘I don’t think you need to concern yourself with that.’
‘I do if he ends up back with us. That situation wasn’t exactly helping Jack’s stress levels either.’ Phoebe held Carol in a steady gaze. She waited for the backlash but none came.
The Spring of Second Chances : An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy Page 30
